Hidden Dragon
by katie076
Summary: Alexandria Crouch has never known what it's like to have a normal family, or to grow up in one that was not riddled with secrets. She is getting ready to start her fourth year at Hogwarts, and with the arrival of the new DADA professor, she will soon learn that secrets can sometimes become dangerous. Primarily canon. Draco/OC. OC/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone, and thank you for checking out this new story! Before you read the first chapter, I'm going to throw in just a bit of background information. The main character's name is Alexandria Crouch, and she is the daughter of Barty Crouch Sr. I plan to rewrite the entirety of the Goblet of Fire from her point of view as a student. It will be a behind the scenes look at what really happens with the Crouch family during the tri-wizard tournament. The story opens during the summer after POA, and before the Quidditch World Cup. And with that, I'll let you get back to the story. I hope you enjoy it!**

Chapter 1 – Family Ties

"Miss Crouch... it is time to wake! Miss Crouch! You must wake now!"

I stirred in my bed, trying to remember the dream I had been having. It was something to do with an owl, I think. It was flying somewhere close to the ocean. Or maybe it was a lake. No, that didn't seem right…

"Miss Crouch! Mr. Crouch has sent for you to be woken miss… you mustn't keep him waiting… not on a day like today…"

I reluctantly opened one of my eyes and stared up into the wide eyes of Winky, my family's house elf. I could sense the urgency in her voice, and now I could see it plastered all over her small face. My mind quickly wondered to what kind of death threats my dear old father had threatened her with to get me to come down to breakfast.

"Mr. Crouch has sent Winky to bring you to breakfast. I is to make sure you put on something decent of company, I is." Winky walked away over to my wardrobe, and began searching for an outfit worthy of whatever company she was referring to.

"Who's comin'?" I mumbled, my voice still thick from sleep. I pulled the blankets back over my head to try and block out the light pouring in from my large bedroom windows.

"Percy Weasley, M'lady." Winky was now busying herself removing the wrinkles from a long black dress. I removed my head from under my blankets and stared at the little elf for a long moment, trying to rid myself of the drowsiness I was still experiencing. Was I supposed to know why a Weasley would be coming to breakfast with my father and myself? And why would it be important enough to warrant my presence?

"I'm sorry, but why would—"

I was cut off as Winky hurried towards my bed to try and pull me out of it. Even though the weak arms of the elf would never be able to move me, I gave in and started moving in the direction she was pulling me. I climbed out of bed, and moved to where she had lain the dress and started clumsily pulling it on.

"Mr. Weasley is Mr. Crouch's new assistant, he is," began Winky. "He is coming here to get his first assignment. Mr. Crouch wants to make a good impression. Mr. Crouch wants Winky to make sure master's family is well presented to our guest."

"Of course he does," I thought aloud. 'Mr. Crouch' was always so set on presenting his family well—what's left of it that is. If only our family was ever presented in a way that showed what it truly was. But at the same time, I doubt it would go over very well with my father's new assistant if our family was presented as one who was harboring an escaped convict who was presumed to be dead. No, I doubt, 'Mr. Crouch' would like that family image at all.

"If you is ready, miss, we is already late to arrive", whined Winky. I took one last look in my full length mirror. The plain, black, knee-length dress did nothing to help my boyish figure, but I assume that's why Winky picked this out. It was definitely a dress my father would approve of, that was for sure. My long, wavy black hair hung in tangles over my shoulders, but I didn't care much about trying to fix it. My blue eyes were still a bit puffy, and you could definitely tell that I had only been awake about 5 minutes at the most. I threw on a long black robe over the dress, and turned away from my less than satisfactory reflection.

I followed Winky out of my bedroom, and closed the door behind me. As we walked down to the dining room, I could barely hear the sound of feet pacing back and forth a floor above my head. Barty must be awake, I should probably visit him for a while after breakfast. We descended the stairs quickly, and Winky and I parted ways as she headed in the opposite direction towards the kitchens. As I came closer to the dining room, I could begin to hear voices.

"…That's the same thing I was telling father just yesterday, you know. I told him that my boss, Mr. Crouch, had a differing view on the matter and he would be smart to acknowledge the opinion of a wiser man. But I daresay he doesn't quite understand..."

"Ahh, and here is my daughter, finally awake I see. Weatherby, this is my daughter, Alexandria. Alexandria, Weatherby." My father gestured towards Percy Weasley, whose face began to grow red as he looked at me. It took a huge amount of effort to not laugh out loud at the look on his face.

"Of course. It's so nice to meet you, _Weatherby._ " I smirked at him as I moved forward to shake his hand.

"Er—it's Weasley, actually... I…"

"Come now both of you, sit down, sit down. Let's eat, shall we? Winky!" The three of us sat down on one end of our long dining table—my father on the end, Percy and me on either of his sides.

As I sat down across from Percy, I couldn't help but to notice how shabby he looked next to my immaculately dressed father. His robes looked old and weathered, and his hair was sticking in every direction despite the fact that it was cut fairly short. His eyes kept looking between my father and me, and he looked as if he had begun to say something but then thought against it.

Percy Weasley really was as odd as I remember him being. Of course, I didn't have much to go on. The only true memory I had of him was him giving me a detention in second year for being out of the common room too late at night. But other than that, all I remembered was that he was a bit of a suck up, and that nobody seemed to like him. Which, that might have just been because he was a Weasley. Being in Slytherin house, you rarely heard the name 'Weasley' without a negative remark being attached to it.

I did know enough about him to know that he had just left his final year at Hogwarts, where he had been a Gryffindor. I thought they were all supposed to be brave and annoyingly confident? I was rather shocked at how nervous and awkward this poor guy seemed. I mean, I know my father could be intimidating, but I had never seen somebody be quite so fidgety. I watched as he removed his napkin to place it in his lap, and knocked his fork onto the floor in the process. Instead of calmly picking it up, like any normal person would do, he made a kind of screeching noise and dashed completely under the table to retrieve it. He then emerged uttering many apologies for his lack of grace. My father looked up as if he hadn't even seen the display, which I reminded myself, he probably hadn't.

Winky strolled into the dining room carrying trays of food. Sausages, buttered toast, and a small container of gravy were set on the table, and Winky disappeared to retrieve a pitcher of pumpkin juice. She started circling the table, filling up everyone's goblet with the drink.

I could not remember the last time that my father and I had had a meal together alone. Every time we had sat together at this audacious table, it was always because we had some form of company. My father was slightly obsessed with making the world believe that we had a normal, functional family. Any other time he was far too happy to leave me alone completely. A typical breakfast for me normally meant waking up somewhere around noon and going down to the kitchens to have a bowl of 'Cheeri Owls' alone.

My thoughts were interrupted as Percy knocked over his goblet of pumpkin juice all over the contents of his plate. I watched as the gravy mixed with the juice to make it resemble some kind of orange mud. I couldn't help but laugh while watching him frantically try to clean his mess. When I caught my father's eye, I quickly raised my napkin to my face and tried to pass my giggles off as a coughing fit.

"Not to worry, not to worry… accidents do happen. Winky!" The little elf came sprinting into the room as if she had been standing on the other side of the door just waiting to be summoned. Which I reminded myself, she probably had been. She quickly moved forward and started cleaning the mess on the table. When she had finished, she retreated from the room and brought Percy another goblet of pumpkin juice. He took the cup from her, his face as red as his hair, and muttered another quick apology.

My father cleared his throat, and gestured for Winky to leave. "No harm done, Weatherby. But if you will allow me, I believe we shall proceed to speaking about the business that I have invited you to hear. As I'm sure you know, there is much work to be done in the fight for international regulation. Tell me, what do you know on the subject of Cauldron thickness?"

ooooOOOOOoooo

The sun was shining brightly from the middle of the sky as I started walking down the familiar road towards my best friend's house a few hours later. I had just managed to sneak past my father and _Weatherby_ as they were making their way into the sitting room after breakfast for tea. My father had forced me to remain at the table for far too long after I had finished eating while the two of them discussed the party that would soon take place.

Every year that the Quidditch World Cup had ever been held in Britain, a grand party was held between the teams, their families, and a select amount of people from their country's ministries who were deemed important enough to be invited. And as luck would have it, that included my father and me. This very party was taking place tonight, exactly a week before the Cup, and absolutely no part of me was interested in attending.

Growing up as a pureblood, parties such as these were something you got used to fast. And if your father was as high up in the Ministry of Magic as mine was, they came about even more frequently. I prided myself in managing to get out of quite a few of them, but this one would be different. There was absolutely no way I would be able to wiggle my way out with any kind of excuse, not when so much pressure was being placed on my father from the Minister. I would just have to grin and bear it. Before I had left the house moments before, my father had excused himself from his business with Percy and pulled me aside.

"Where do you think you're going?" He had whispered.

"Umm… I was just going to go see Cecelia for a while. I haven't been over there yet this summer." His hold on my arm loosened slightly.

"Very well… but you be sure to be back here early enough to make yourself look presentable. The World Cup party is tonight and we are expected to be at Malfoy Manor promptly at 7. I expect you to not embarrass me," he narrowed his eyes at me for a moment, and then dropped my arm as he headed back into the room where Percy was standing waiting awkwardly.

It was common knowledge in our household that my father was disappointed in the majority of things I did. You'd think after the problems he had out of his other child that he would see me as a joy in comparison, but obviously that wasn't the case. My father prided himself on being the face of a rule-abiding citizen, and he wanted his daughter to be just as pompous and perfect in all of her endeavors as he seemed to be. If anything, the failure of his first born child had instilled a feeling in my father that caused him to expect me to be twice as successful to make up for it. Even though I was one of the most talented witches of my year, my father still wanted more from me. Sometimes I felt as If I could be appointed as Minister of Magic at the age of 14 and still be considered a disappointment in my father's eyes.

I rounded the corner of our lane, and continued on my way to Cecelia's house. Cecelia Selwyn was from another pureblood family almost as old as the one in which I belonged. We were in the same year at Hogwarts, and were also dorm mates. She had been my close friend while we were growing up, due to the fact that our homes were the only two in the area that were really within walking distance of each other.

Just about every pureblood family owned a manor in this same area of Britain. It was a place of beautiful rolling hills, patches of forest, and even a gorgeous river that flowed closely behind my house—which had always been one of my favorite places to get away from my father and brother over the summer holidays. Even though the majority of purebloods lived here, their individual manors were spaced far apart. Privacy was a valued trait among these people.

I was now close enough to the Selwyn's land to see the tall home start to peek out from behind the trees. Not much had changed about the old manor since I had been a little girl playing in the yard with Cecelia and her younger sister, Anneliese. I walked up the narrow path towards the house, and when I got up to the door, gave three loud knocks with the serpent-shaped knocker.

Cecilia's mother came to the door and pulled it open quickly. When she saw me, the fake smile she had plastered to her face faltered slightly, and then went back to being perfect. I could tell that I was not who she was expecting. Her short, blonde curls bounced slightly as she nodded towards me saying "Ohh hello dear, I wasn't expecting to see you here today. Shouldn't you be home getting ready for the party"?

"I won't be long. I just wanted to talk to Cecelia for a while, if that's okay?" I looked at the woman closely, trying to gauge what she was thinking. I often felt as if she didn't approve of the friendship I had with her daughter.

"Of course, dear. She's just upstairs getting ready." She ushered me inside, and took another long look down the pathway leading up to her door before she closed it and turned back to me. "Why don't you go on up"?

I walked past her up the spiral staircase towards Cecelia's bedroom, as I had done loads of times in the past. The house was quite a bit smaller than the ancient house in which I lived, but it was decorated far more luxuriously. There was detailed molding along the edges of the ceiling, and delicate designs were painted on the walls of the landing as I walked along towards my destination. I guess it was what came of having a woman's touch around to do the decorating. It had been a long time since my mother was around to decorate for us, and it definitely showed.

"Alex!" Cecelia had heard me coming down the landing, and was now skipping towards me. She caught me in a bone-crushing hug, which made me slightly uncomfortable. Lacking any family other than a distant father and a brother I wasn't allowed to be around meant that I wasn't used to such displays of affection. "I haven't seen you in ages, how has your holiday been?"

"It's been fine, I guess. I was hoping I'd catch you. You're mum said that you had already started getting ready for the party. Isn't it a bit early?" I peeked around her into her bedroom and saw a huge display of makeup on her large vanity.

"It's never too early when beauty is concerned," Cecelia said with a giggle. "Speaking of beauty, did you just come from a funeral?" She eyed my long, plain, black dress and robe with a disgusted expression.

"Er—no. You know how I have to look when my father's around," I answered.

"Yeah, like a nun," Cecelia laughed at her own joke. "But really, it's not even that early. You do realize what time it is don't you? You're going to be late. I assume you're not wearing _that_ to the party."

I grimaced as I looked at the clock over by her bed. I really was pushing it on time. But I honestly didn't care what I looked like to go sit with my father's friends all night and be ignored. It's not like it matters what you look like if nobody looks at you. "I'm sure my father would love if I showed up late. He already managed to tell me not to embarrass him once today."

"Sounds like the Barty Crouch I know," Cecelia said, as she went back to doing her hair at the vanity. "I'm surprised he even let you come over here. Even my mother has been a mess today worrying about that party, and she's not got near the pressure on her as your father does. I can't imagine a more important time for the head of the department of international cooperation than the Quidditch World Cup. Mum just works for the animagus registry. I don't even know why we're invited really…" 

"Right. Was your mum expecting a visitor today?" I asked, trying to keep the amount of curiosity I felt out of my voice. "She acted a bit disappointed when she opened the door and saw me."

Cecelia snorted. "Probably her new 'boyfriend' I expect. She won't tell me who it is, but I can tell that she's been seeing someone. She's as transparent as water". Cecelia's dad had died long ago in an accident with the department of magical law enforcement. Since then her mother had dated her fair share of men, but none of them had stayed around long enough to get to know Cecelia or her sister very well. Cecelia didn't act like it, but I was always able to tell that it bothered her. "You know, I'm almost done with my hair and makeup. Want me to do yours"? She gave me a look as if to say I had no choice in the matter. I scowled at the thought of it. "Ohh come on, Alex, I'll be so much faster than you'd be and I'll do a better job at it too. That way all you'll have to do when you get home is put on your dress robes."

I sighed, but then nodded reluctantly. I knew this was a fight that I would never win. As much as I didn't value looks, Cecelia was the opposite. And she was not about to be seen at a party such as this with someone who didn't match her in fashion. "Fine, but do not make me look like a prostitute. Keep it semi-natural."

"Sure thing," said Cecelia, but I could tell by the wide grin that stretched across her face that she didn't hear a thing I said. I sat down in front of her mirror and readied myself for the onslaught. "Wait," she said at once, "turn away from the mirror, I want it to be a surprise!"

"Fine…" I did not like the way this was going.

She worked on me for a few minutes in silence. I felt many differently sized brushes and liquids moving all across my face as she concentrated hard on her project.

"I can't wait to see everyone dressed up. It's been so long since we've been invited to a party, and I don't think I've ever been to one as extravagant as this one will be! I wonder who all will be there. And what the decorations will look like! Ohh and I really hope they have a…" I let her go on with her excited rant for a few minutes, only halfway listening. The whole time I was willing her to stop applying stuff to my face.

She eventually moved on to my hair, and I could feel her struggling against the stubborn knots. "I do hope there are some good looking guys there. I mean, we do get to meet the entirety of the Quidditch teams! There's nothing better than an athlete. But then again, I doubt any of them will be as handsome as Draco is bound to be. I wonder what he'll wear. And if Pansy will be there! Ohh, I hadn't thought of that…"

"How's Oliver?" I asked her pointedly. Oliver Pucey was her longtime boyfriend, and was in the same year at Hogwarts as Cecelia and me. I always got the feeling that their relationship was more political than romantic, especially since Cecelia loved to brag about how she was dating him. He came from a very wealthy and old wizarding pureblood family, and his family had a lot of power at the ministry.

"Ohh… he's fine. He's spending the holiday with his parents in Greece. He's been trying to get them to let him come back early for the Cup, but I doubt he'll be able to." She tugged hard on my head, trying to tame the impossible mess of hair. I couldn't help but wonder if she would be glad if he didn't come so that she would be free to flirt with one of the players tonight.

"That's too bad, I know how much he loves Quidditch." I remembered back to when he tried out for the Slytherin team in 2nd year, but Malfoy beat him to the spot of seeker because of his dear old dad. Oliver still held a grudge against him, and rightfully so. I would too if a less talented player beat me out of being on a team because of his power.

"And with that, I think you are finished! I have to admit this is some of my best work," she sprayed my hair down with some kind of sticky spray.

"What is that?" I coughed out to her.

"It's called 'hairspray'. It's something that muggle women use to make their hair stay in place. It actually works pretty well. It's a trick mum taught me." She spun me around so that I could finally see myself in her mirror. I couldn't help but gasp a bit. I barely recognized myself. My makeup was a little heavier than I would have liked, but I couldn't help but admire how polished it made my skin look. She had made my eyes very dark and smokey, and my lips were red. The color stood out beautifully against my pale skin. My dark hair was twisted back into an elaborate waterfall of curls that flowed down my back.

"Wow, Cece, I almost look good." I looked up to her and beamed. "Thank you, I owe you one."

"Yes you do," she laughed, "you have no idea how hard it was to get your hair to do anything."

"I better head home and change," I said as I glanced over to the clock. Even with Cecelia's help I'd be pushing my luck on time.

"Okay, I'll see you there! Don't ruin my masterpiece in the meantime." she gave me a stern look before disappearing into the bathroom to finish getting ready herself.

I quickly left the room, and went down the stairs and out the front door. I sped home as quickly as I could, trying not to move my head too much and ruin my hair. I knew I was pushing it already hoping that this muggle 'hair spray' would last until I made it to the party.

When I finally made it back home, I was alarmed to see that the door was slightly ajar. I pushed it aside, and eased into the house. Nothing seemed wrong, but still. I knew my father would never leave the door open and unattended in that way, and Winky would know better than to do it herself. I started making my way through the house, and checked all of the rooms on the lowest floor. Nobody was around.

"Father?" I called as I walked up the stairs to the second floor. "Winky?" The second floor landing was dark, and it was as quiet here as it was downstairs. I looked in my father's bedroom and found it empty. I moved on up to the third floor, now getting slightly more nervous and reaching to be sure that my wand was still tucked away inside my robes. Winky, who slept in a small closet-sized room at the end of the third floor landing, was also not in her room. "Hello?" I called again.

It was then that I heard a cry of pain. It was a high pitched, ear splitting scream. I froze instantly, looking around in shock. I quickly realized the direction in which it was coming from, and turned towards the distant room where my brother was kept. When I entered the room, I saw three figures inside: my brother, cowering in the far corner, had an oddly content look on his face; my father was standing in the middle of the large room over a crumpled, smaller figure on the floor at his feet; the small figure, I then noticed was Winky. She was weeping into her hands, laying in almost a fetal position on the floor.

"Master… Winky is so sorry, master… Master is right to punish Winky, sir. I should have known not to leave young Mr. Crouch alone, sir… please forgive Winky," the elf wept, and used what little strength it had to crawl towards my father's feet. She then reached out to touch him, but before she could reach him—

" _Crucio!_ " Winky shook on the floor, her huge eyes bulging wider than they normally were. The ear splitting scream rang in the old house again, this time even louder. She continued to writhe on the floor, my father looking over her with no amount of pity for the house elf. After a few more seconds, Winky stopped moving. I presumed that she had passed out from the pain.

I looked over to my brother, who was watching me intently. It had been a long time since I had been in this room. Normally, the only times I saw him was when I would sneak up here to talk to him while my father was out. He smiled at me softly, completely not affected by the scene he had just witnessed, and casually mumbled "Hey, Alex."

My father looked over to me, and his eyes narrowed. He then walked over to my brother, and kicked him hard in the stomach. As he fell to the ground with a groan, my father rounded on me again. I thought he was going to punish me next, and for a wild moment I even thought he might tell me what had happened with my brother and Winky. But I knew better than that. My father was not one to explain his reasons to us. As he looked at me, his face quickly changed from one of cold fury to the one of polite indifference that he normally had.

"Alexandria… go and get dressed in something nicer," he told me. "Something appropriate. I want to make a good impression on the Irish and Bulgarian Ministers. We're leaving soon." Then he walked by me out of the room, holding the door open for me to follow. I reached down to pick up Winky, and carried her in my arms out of the room. With one quick look behind me at my brother, who was still smiling up at me, I let my father lock him in behind us. Still carrying Winky, I walked quickly to my bedroom to finish getting ready for the party, and to slip back into the role that I was so used to playing.

 **Well, how did you all like the first chapter? I know it wasn't the most exciting, but it included a lot of important background information and character development that I wanted to get out of the way. The next chapter will be much more action packed, and will cover what happens at the Quidditch World Cup party!**

 **I am for sure going to write the entirety of GOF from Alex's point of view, and depending on how it turns out, also plan to rewrite the last 3 books as well. I already have the entire GOF portion mapped out, and I'm so excited for what I have planned for her!**

 **Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this chapter, and I hope you stick around to find out what happens with Alex! I've already started on the next chapter, so it should be up in just a few days at the most. In the meantime, I would love a review! This is my first ever fanfiction, so I need all the helpful criticism you can think of. (:**


	2. Chapter 2

**And here is the second chapter! If you're reading this, I want to thank you for making it here. It means a lot that you would take the time to read on. Also, I apologize for it taking me so long to get this chapter out. Work obligations have left me super busy lately. It should never take this long again. My goal is to put out one chapter a week, starting now. Also, please forgive any mistakes you find. I didn't run this chapter by anyone before posting it, due to wanting it to be out ASAP. But now, without further ado, please enjoy this second chapter!**

Chapter 2— Appearances

Whenever I got back to my bedroom, I took a minute to replay the scene in my head. Winky had left my brother alone. But what did that mean? Had she completely left the house while my father and I were both gone? Or was he referring to something else? There was really no way to know, and I knew better than to ask my father what had happened.

Winky was now laying on my bed. It probably wouldn't be too long until the elf woke up. This wasn't the first time that she had something like this happen to her at the hand of my father, so I knew from experience that she would be fine after she rested for a while. I turned my attention instead to changing my clothes, and tried to erase the most recent confrontation over my brother from my mind completely.

I opened my wardrobe, and saw where Winky had hung a garment bag filled with whatever outfit I was supposed to wear for the night. Winky almost always did my shopping for me, and I rarely got to pick something out for myself. I took the bag out of the wardrobe, and opened it wearily. The contents of the bag held another knee length dress, similar in shape to the one I was wearing already. This time, however, it was a beautiful shade of rural blue. The dress sparkled in the light that came from my window, and when I looked closer, I could see small crystals dancing in the light along the halter neckline of the dress. The robe that went over the dress was the same color of blue. Also, there was a new pair of shoes in the bottom of my wardrobe. They were silver high heels, with crystals to match my dress robes dangling from the straps.

I dressed as quickly as I could, and then turned to face my reflection in the mirror. The color was beautiful against my pale skin, and as I turned around, I noticed that the majority of my back was visible. The design of the dress's neckline made me look curvier than I did normally, and the high heeled shoes made my legs look long and graceful—standing still at least. I knew as soon as I tried walking in these that grace would soon disappear.

The work Cecelia had done on my hair and face was still pristine. That muggle spray did work wonders, and the makeup she had applied was still as perfect as when it was first done. I turned to grab my robe, and threw it around my shoulders. It was closer to the shape of a cape than a robe, and didn't fall farther than the length of the dress beneath.

I couldn't help but marvel for a moment over how I looked. I turned in a slow circle, watching in the mirror as the blue dress flowed out away from my legs. It wasn't that I normally didn't care how I looked, but I never really bothered to put much effort behind it. When I did try, I got frustrated quickly. I never really knew how to make my hair lay flat or how to correctly apply makeup. So I normally settled for a ponytail and my nature look. Cecelia obviously knew more about beauty than I did.

As I was about to leave my room, there was an abrupt knock on my door. I called for whoever it was to come in, and my father entered my room. He looked much calmer than he had moments before, when I had seen him cursing his servant. As he looked at me, he gave me one of those rare smiles that always looked odd on his serious face.

"You look so beautiful, and so much like your mother." His smile faltered slightly, but then came back larger than before. My mouth dropped a bit at his comment. It was an unspoken rule in this house to not speak about my mother.

"Er—thank you," I said, a bit awkwardly, back to him. I looked back into the mirror briefly, and pulled the robe tighter around my shoulders. I was suddenly much more self-conscience than I was just moments before.

"I have something I wanted to give you." My father pulled a small purple box from the pocket inside of his dress robes. I reached to take it from him, and held it in my hands for a moment before opening it. Looking down at the box, I could see the Crouch family crest gleaming on top. And on the side of the box, there was a small line of silver words that read "faber est suae quisque fortunae". I had seen this before. It was the Crouch family motto, and meant "every man is the artisan of his own fortune."

I looked to my father, who was watching me closely. I pulled the lid off of the box, and looked down at the delicate bracelet inside. It was silver, and was laced with small diamonds and emeralds. I pulled it carefully out of the box, and watched as the sunlight coming in through the window reflected off of the gems, casting shimmering spots all over the room. The clasp of the bracelet was an emerald carved into the shape of a serpent, with black onyx eyes.

"It's beautiful, thank you so much," I marveled aloud to my father, who was looking at me intently, monitoring my reactions.

"It belonged to your mother. I gave it to her when we got engaged. It's been in the family for generations. I thought it was about time to pass it on to you." He walked over to me, and took the bracelet out of my hands. He clasped it around my wrist, and held out my arm to admire it. It fit me perfectly. I looked up at him, still mildly shocked, and saw him looking down at my wrist with soft eyes. After a moment, I caught his eye, and his expression hardened once again.

"Let's go, I don't want to be late." My father walked stiffly from the room. I followed him out, and became overly aware of the new weight on my wrist.

ooooOOOOOoooo

I had not been inside of Malfoy Manor since I was very young. The Malfoy's held parties here often, but the majority of the time I was able to weasel my way out of attending. Normally, unless it was a party as important as this one, my father didn't mind if I came or not—as long as I was able to come up with a good enough excuse for him to tell everyone to explain my absence.

As my father and I apparated outside of the grand house, I could start to make out the details of the party decorations. The long path that led up to the front door was surrounded by hundreds of thousands of small lights. One side of the path had green lights, and the other side of the path had maroon. There were lots of different people making their way up to the house. My father and I got in line behind them, ready to make our entrance.

As we entered the front door, we followed the stream of people into a side room. This room was almost as large as the Hogwarts great hall, but wasn't quite as warm and inviting. The walls were made of light colored stone, and delicate carvings laced the walls around the ballroom. The ceilings were high, and arched in an ancient fashion. Enchanted shamrocks were flying around high above the heads of the guests, and large pots of gold sat in various places around the room. The Bulgarians were also represented, as veela were apparently being used as servers for dinner. A half dozen of the beautiful creatures were serving drinks to the people already seated for dinner.

There was a large dining table placed in the middle of the room, which was slightly longer than one of the house tables at Hogwarts. Witches and wizards clad in green or maroon dress robes were seating themselves along the table, all looking for a place card which would hold their names. My father and I walked towards the table, stopping occasionally on the way so that father could say hello to some of the guests—most of them I did not recognize.

Before we reached the table, Percy Weasley came hurrying towards us. He had apparently already found our name tags, so he started leading us in the direction of our seats. My father and I were seated close to the very middle of the long table. Percy was seated on his left side, and I was at his right. Across from me sat a group of Bulgarian men, who were speaking in hushed voices in a language I did not recognize.

Guests continued to enter the ballroom as we waited for everyone to find their seats. The majority of the people I did not know. They were either from Ireland or Bulgaria, or were ministry witches and wizards. There was, however, a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some of my Slytherin classmates strolled in with their parents. Cecelia, her mother, and her little sister came in and sat down towards the far end of the table. I caught Cecelia's eye, and she winked at me.

"Mead?" A veela server leaned over me to pour me a goblet of the drink. I took a sip of the liquid and felt my insides warm instantly. Across from me, one of the Bulgarian men downed his cup in one gulp and then turned to ask for another.

The table was almost full now. The people were all chatting excitedly. The veela servers all started to leave the room, I presumed to start getting the meal ready to serve. All around me, the chatter of the guests grew into hushed whispers, and then gradually back into words of excitement. I looked behind me towards the door, and saw seven people in green Quidditch uniforms walk into the room. The group garnered a very warm welcome from the people in the room wearing green robes, and lots of angry sounding foreign words from the Bulgarians sitting across from me. The Irish Quidditch team walked to the left side of the table, and sat down all in a row.

After the excitement from the entrance of the Irish team died down a bit, everyone started back into their own conversations. As I was trying to decipher what the Bulgarian man across from us was trying to ask my father—who was looking just as confused by the man's words as I felt—I heard the chair on my other side being pulled away from the table, and I looked over to see that Ludo Bagman had sat down clumsily next to me.

"So sorry… I was nervous that I would be late." He looked quickly around and, apparently deciding he hadn't missed anything important, broke out into his boyish grin I was so used to seeing. "Alexandria! How are you? Having a good holiday?"

I nodded back at him. "It's been alright."

"Barty, old man!" Bagman reached across me to slap my father on the shoulder. "Good to see you! Ohh, don't look so sour, this is a party! Lighten up a bit. Here, have a drink..." He reached out to summon a veela over, but my father waved his hand at her.

"No thank you, dear… Ludo, how nice of you to join us." My father looked pointedly over at a large clock hanging on a wall across the room.

"Come on, the minister's not even here yet! And neither is the other team, now that I look…" I looked up at the clock to see that it was now ten passed seven o'clock. It was a bit strange that they wouldn't be more punctual for an event such as this.

It was as if he had spoken a signal. All of the heads at the table turned to look, once again, at the entrance. Seven players all dressed in maroon robes strode into the ballroom. It seemed as if they were all much more serious than the Irish had been, or at least, trying to appear to be. Maybe that was their strategy. All of the Bulgarians at the table began to cheer at them. As they passed, they received many outstretched hands and pats on the back. One of them, however, received more than all of the others. He was walking at the front of the group, and looked to be the youngest on the team. The boy was very broad and burly, and wore a very distinct scowl. I heard one of the Bulgarians say the name 'Krum' while pointing in his direction. The team sat down opposite from the Irish.

After the entrance of the Bulgarian team, Cornelius Fudge, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, and another man in maroon robes came into the room. I could only guess that this man was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic. Ireland, of course, was under the same ministry as England, so Fudge was the minister represented for their team. They were all talking in hushed voices as the group approached the table, and it seemed as though they might have been arguing before they had come into the room. But once they came closer to the table, I could hear Fudge say "you don't understand a word I've been saying, do you?" I looked at the Bulgarian minister to see him wearing an amused expression. Fudge sat at the very head of the table. The Malfoy's were on his left, and the Bulgarian minister was on his right.

Soon after, the very last of the dinner guests came into the room—Draco Malfoy and his date, Pansy Parkinson. Malfoy was in some traditional looking black robes with silver details. Pansy, however, was wearing a light pink flowy dress. As the pair walked into the room, Pansy had her nose so high in the air it looked as though she was watching the ceiling. As the two of them sat down on the other side of Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, I expected she would almost die of pride as her dark eyes swept the length of the table. Draco Malfoy, however, just looked rather bored.

Seeing that every seat was now filled, Fudge stood up to address the excited guests around him. He beamed around at the room of people. "Hello everybody, and welcome to the 422nd Quidditch World Cup honorary dinner!" He remained silent for a moment, while everyone seated around the table applauded. "Yes, yes... thank you. Now, as you all know, this little get together is a wonderful tradition between the ministries of the World Cup participating countries. In honor of this, I want to give an especially warm welcome to our visitors from Ireland and Bulgaria." Both teams roared with applause, trying to outdo the other. The Irish were definitely the more raucous of the two, but the Bulgarian Minister's loud claps boomed over all of the noise. "Also, let us all give a gracious thank you to our hosts for the evening, the Malfoys, who have kindly offered up their home and hospitality for our event." Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy looked proudly around at the guests applauding them, giving a small wave. Beside them, Draco sat up straighter for a moment, and looked down the table at the other guests with a proud smirk. Beside him, Pansy weaved her arm through Malfoy's and gave a very fake looking grin down the table. She then gave a wave to the mass of people, as if determined to show how important she was to be sitting next to the Malfoys.

"Let us all use this evening to further our friendships among each other," Fudge continued, "even though we all come from different lands, and speak different languages, we are still very similar. This is a time for strengthening our international relationships. And of course, baring witness to a spectacular sport in the process!" The crowd all applauded him at this, and he smiled around at the people. "With all of that in mind, let us raise our goblets to international sportsmanship." The room all lifted their goblets, and a mumbled rumble of cheers filled the room. "Now, I won't keep you all any longer with a bunch of rambling. Let's eat!"

Immediately, the veela were back carrying plates of food. They sat a plate down in front of each guest, each one holding huge legs of meat and mounds of potatoes and breads. Everyone started in on the delicious food, and it was a few moments before the loud chatter filled the room once more.

"So, Barty—have you gotten business squared away yet?" Bagman talked over me to my father, who looked up from his plate at the man with a frown.

"What business is that, Ludo?" I saw my father flash him a meaningful look, which Bagman did not pick up on.

Bagman looked both ways down the table, apparently making sure no one was listening before he continued. "Come on man, you know. The event everyone's _really_ been talking about…."

"I do not think this is the time or place to discuss such matters." My father gave a pointed look down at me. My curiosity spiked at this.

"Ohh, nonsense, she'll find out soon enough I daresay! So will all of the students. That is, if we can get Karkaroff to stop acting like he might not show up—"

"Karkaroff?" One of the Bulgarian men who were sitting across from us looked up eagerly from his plate. "Igor Karkaroff?" The man was obviously already slightly drunk, and was slurring his words as he looked between my father and Bagman.

"Why, yes… quite right." Bagman was looking put out at having to explain himself to an eavesdropper. "You know him, then?"

"Know him?! I know he's a right old fool!" That was the last coherent thing the man said, because after that he started shouting in Bulgarian.

"Who's Karkaroff?" I mumbled sideways to my father, but he wasn't listening to me.

"Excuse me, sir. But words such as that are not necessary here!" Ohh yeah, I forgot about the hundreds of languages father could speak. Of course Bulgarian would be one of them. It didn't take me knowing how to speak Bulgarian to understand the anger coming from the man's words. At my father's comment, he pounded his fist hard on the table. It was loud enough that the majority of the table stopped their conversations to watch the man's display. I looked up the table and caught the eye of the young player who everyone had been calling "Krum". When our eyes met, he held them for several moments before looking quickly away.

"Now, what is this? Calm down now, this is a party after all!" Fudge had shouted down the table at them.

My father, I saw, was looking extremely embarrassed at being associated with this kind of outburst. He went red in the face, and calmly said back down the table. "No worries, Minister. I'm afraid our friend here has just had a little too much mead."

Fudge smiled at the comment, and gestured for one of the veela servers to join him. "Please limit the alcohol intake of that gentleman for the rest of the evening, won't you?" She nodded and hurried away. The drink servers avoided our spot of the table for the rest of dinner, and soon enough, everyone stopped staring and went back to enjoying the food.

ooooOOOOOoooo

After dinner ended, Fudge stood again to ask everybody to rise from the table and join him on the other side of the room. Everyone sleepily got up from the table and went to follow him. As we were standing around the edges of the room, it began to change. I watched in amazement as the large dining table rose into the air and disappeared. In its place evolved a glimmering dance floor. A string Quartet emerged from the other room at the same time, and began playing a slow waltz.

The young girls in the room looked around excitedly, all eagerly dreaming about who they wanted to dance with. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were the first ones on the floor, quickly followed by Draco and Pansy. The two couples floated over the floor gracefully. Slowly, other couples went to join in.

"May I have this dance, Alexandria?" My father held his hand out to me. I took it politely, and nodded my head. He led me to the floor, and we began to spin with the other couples. Dancing wasn't necessarily hard for me, even if I wasn't the most coordinated person alive. But growing up, father had always made me have lessons. Most pureblood kids knew how to dance properly at a young age.

"That man at dinner was really something, huh?" I whispered to him, trying to make conversation.

"Yes well, what can you expect from the Bulgarians really? They're always quick to quarrel."

"Yes but, it was odd how he seemed to know the man Bagman mentioned. Was he talking about something to do with Hogwarts?" I tried to make my tone seem as though I was just making light conversation and that I wasn't burning with curiosity.

"Don't let that concern you. Bagman was foolish to mention anything about it. But like he said, you'll find out soon enough on your own." He spun me around faster, giving a dignified nod and smile over at the Malfoys before continuing. "I want you to leave with Weatherby tonight. I asked him to escort you home."

"What? Why?" I asked, not trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"I'm afraid I must attend to a few things with Fudge before I leave…"

I thought about that for a moment. What kind of business would be so important that it couldn't wait until tomorrow? "Wait, does this have something to do with whatever Bagman was talking about earlier? About something happening at Hogwarts...you could tell me, you know. I won't say anything to anyone." I dared to grin up at him. He didn't return the expression.

"Ludo Bagman should learn when it is appropriate to speak about important matters. Tonight was not one of those times. Forget anything you heard him say. He's a right old fool for mentioning it. Now, don't ask me about it again." We came to a stop as the song drew to a close. "Now, Weatherby will take you home soon. You should mingle for a while first. Go and see what your friends are up to." He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and left to go and talk to some ministry men standing on the side of the dance floor.

I made my way over to the drink table in the far corner of the large room, eager to get away. I might know how to dance, but that doesn't mean that I enjoyed it. "One glass of mead, please," I told the Veela at the table. I took the drink from her and looked around the room. I spotted Cecelia in the opposite corner from where I was standing. She was talking to one of the men in a green quidditch uniform. I decided to make my way over to them.

"Ohh, how interesting!" Cecelia let out a loud giggle at whatever the boy had said.

"Yes well, I suppose… but really it's a pretty common thing in Ireland," I heard the boy say, his accent thick and deep.

"But surely not all of the young men in Ireland can say they've fought a dragon and lived!" Cecelia let out a dramatic gasp, and reached out to grab the boy's arm. "I mean, it's just so brave. You must have been terrified."

"Actually, dragons are much more common in Ireland… my father actually worked with a group of wizards who used to farm them…"

He was cut off as Cecelia saw me for the first time. "Alex! Finally. I thought you'd never come and say hello. This is Darren O'Hare. He's the captain of the Irish team." She winked at me as he turned to shake my hand.

"Nice to meet you, Alex." He smiled warmly at me. He was very handsome, and seemed to be very friendly as well.

"Same for you. What position do you play on the team?"

He was cut off from answering by Cecelia, who obviously didn't want to talk about something as boring as quidditch at a quidditch party. "Darren, tell Alex what you were just telling me about the dragon! He was attacked by one when he was only 12, weren't you Darren? Ohh it must have been so scary. Maybe you could tell me more about it over a dance?"

"Actually, I was just about to…" O'Hare started, looking around, but Cecelia cut him off.

"Perfect! I just love this song." Cecelia pulled him away towards the dancefloor. He looked back at me, and I couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him. There was absolutely no hope for him now that Cecelia had her eyes set on him.

A laugh sprung up beside of me. "If I didn't know better, I would swear she wasn't in a committed relationship at all." I looked over to see Cecelia's younger sister, Anneliese.

"I'm guessing Oliver won't be able to make it to the cup after all?" I asked her, smiling a bit myself.

"No, and she's just soooooooo heartbroken over it. Can't you tell?" We both looked over to the dancing couple. It looked as though Cecelia was still talking a hundred miles per hour. O'Hare looked as if he would do anything for an escape plan. We both laughed.

"She'll never learn…" I started, "Leave it to Cecelia to get a dance with the Irish team captain, even if he does look like he's miserable."

"You and me both will never hear the end of this," Anneliese laughed. I had always enjoyed the company of Cecelia's younger sister. She was much more down to earth and practical than the older version of herself, even though the two looked almost identical. They both had matching, long blonde hair and fair skin. "But what about you? Had any boys catch your eye tonight?" I looked back at her with a laugh.

"Ohh yeah," I said, "I don't know which I'm more interested in—all of the hateful Bulgarians that don't speak English or the old ministry men that work with my father."

She sighed, looking around the large room. "Ohh, I don't know. There are a few men here I would consider. Cecelia's got the right idea about the quidditch players. And Malfoy looks so handsome in those robes."

"What is with you Selwyn women when it comes to him? He's fowl." I scowled back at the dance floor, watching as Malfoy and Pansy continued to dance slowly to the music.

"Ohh come on, you can't tell me you don't think he's attractive. _Everyone_ thinks he's attractive."

"Well I'm not one of them," I snapped back at her. "He isn't bad looking, I'll give him that, but looks aren't everything you know."

"Right," she said sarcastically. "Says the girl who's never dated anyone."

"That has nothing to do with it," I said back defensively. "Listen, I just meant that you could do so much better than someone like Malfoy. Have a crush on somebody who deserves the attention."

"Now you sound like my mum," Anneliese sighed. "Whatever. I'm going to try and linger around the dance floor until somebody asks me to dance. Want to come?"

"Umm… no. That's okay." There was no way I would go and stand around the dance floor, waiting to be asked. I was invisible enough on a good day. I didn't need the public reminder.

"Suit yourself." As she started walking away, she yelled back at me. "You're putting all of my sister's efforts to waste, you know! You really do look beautiful tonight."

I gave her a weak smile in reply, and walked in the opposite direction back towards the drink table. I was already feeling slightly lightheaded from the goblets of mead I had already had, but I quickly decided that the best way to get through the rest of the night was to get as tipsy as possible. When I finally got the new goblet in my hands, I closed my eyes and drank it all down in one drink. I let the heat from the drink spread throughout my body.

"Can I have one more please?" I asked the veela.

"I think you have had enough for now, miss," The veela seductively replied.

"Come on, please? Just one more…"

"Give the lady another drink. Now." The voice who had spoken surprised me. It was harsh, but at the same time, was arrogant and amused. I turned to look and saw Draco Malfoy standing behind me. The veela immediately poured another goblet full of mead and handed it to me. I took it appreciatively, and turned to walk away from Malfoy.

"Wait…" He moved to catch up with me. I rounded to face him, and he held out his hand. "Draco Malfoy. I'm your host for the evening." He looked down at me with a smirk that made my skin crawl.

"Yeah… I know who you are Malfoy. What do you want?" I looked down at his outstretched hand, not taking it. His eyes flashed down to his hand, and back up to my face. His smirk fell. After a moment, he dropped his hand.

"Have we…?" He started, but trailed off. He took a step closer to me, and plastered that smug expression on his face once more. "Surely I would have remembered meeting someone as lovely as you."

I snorted. "Right. Really funny joke, Malfoy, truly. But if you'll excuse me." I turned away from him and tried to escape again. He grabbed my arm to stop me. His hand was ice cold against my skin, and his grip was tighter than I would have liked. He pulled my arm closer to himself, but instead of looking at me, his eyes dropped to my arm. I was confused at first, but then I realized he was looking at my new bracelet.

"A green serpent... a family heirloom, I expect?" He met my eyes and must have found something in them that confirmed the answer. He smirked again and dropped my wrist. "Did your family attend Hogwarts? Surely you can't be old enough to have already left school…"

"Wait, you seriously don't recognize me?" I held his gaze, but he never gave any ounce of an expression that he knew who I was. "Crouch. Alexandria Crouch? We're in the same year, you twit!"

His expression changed to shock for half a second, and then just looked amused. "Crouch?" He laughed as his eyes moved over me from head to toe. "Well who knew you were capable of cleaning up so nicely." He laughed again. It was a cold sound, and wasn't welcoming in the same way that a laugh normally was.

"Yeah, well if you'll excuse me…" I turned on my heel and stormed away from him. I mean, I knew Cecelia had really done a number on me, but enough to make me unrecognizable? Then again, Malfoy had never given me as much as the time of day before. Even if we had been in the same house at Hogwarts for three years now, it made sense that he would barely remember who I was. I did tend to keep to myself a lot. Other than Cecelia, Anneliese, and occasionally Oliver, I didn't talk to anyone unless it was needed.

I hadn't been quick enough. Before I could make it back across the room, I felt another tug on my arm. This time, the grip on me was almost painful—no, not almost… it WAS painful. Malfoy spun me around. "How about a dance?"

I tried to rip my arm out of his, but he held on even tighter. "How about no, actually." He looked down at me and narrowed his eyes dangerously. I took the opportunity to pull away from him. I rubbed my arm. That spot would definitely be bruised tomorrow.

"Nobody tells me no, Crouch. You're my guest, remember?" I could smell firewhisky on his breath as he leaned closer towards me. Now it all made sense. He was drunk. I tried to tell myself that was the reason he didn't recognize me and not because of how invisible I normally was. I was about to argue, with him, but my comeback was cut off…

"CROUCH!" I turned around to see where the yell had come from, and found myself face to face with Pansy. I tried to not let myself become too amused by how red her pug face was becoming, and tried to remember that her anger was aimed towards me. "What are you doing? Don't you know that Draco is my date?"

In general, confrontation was not something I was great at. It was one of the reasons I tried to keep to myself most of the time. Living in Slytherin, the best way to avoid a fight was to keep your mouth firmly shut. It was a habit I had learned after years of watching Pansy and her followers torture anyone who dared to speak against them. So, instead of saying what I wanted to say (which was something along the lines of 'no, I didn't know that Draco's date was a pig stuffed in a dress'), I went with the safer option.

"Yeah, sorry. I was just leaving." I looked down at the floor, feeling my cheeks get warm. I hated being singled out for anything. I looked back up at Malfoy, who was now not looking at me at all. He had, instead, turned his attention to staring at a veela who was bent over picking up a case of goblets. I looked away in disgust and rolled my eyes.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Pansy was now looking livid. "Have you forgotten who you're talking to, Crouch? Don't make me remind you…"

"Right. Goodnight then." I turned to walk away while she was still threatening me. She called out for me to pay attention to her, but I ignored it and kept walking. I blamed the multiple glasses of mead for my bravery. I decided to go and reward myself with another goblet full. As I walked up to the table, the veela immediately handed me another cup. I was definitely more than a bit tipsy now, but I didn't care in the least. I sipped the warm liquid, and held my hand out to steady my balance on the table.

"Excuse me… can I have a vord?" It was a low voice that called to me. I turned around, not even trying to hide the annoyance in my voice.

"What now?" I snapped. I was startled when I noticed who had spoken. It was the young man from dinner in maroon quidditch robes—the one everyone had been calling Krum. "Ohh… I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."

"I vould hope so…" He scowled at me, and looked as though he were rethinking talking to me. I should have noticed that the voice had a thick accent and realized who it was sooner, but I guessed the mead was getting to my reflexes. I tried to make myself look friendlier. I sat the empty cup down on the table and turned back to him, smiling.

"I'm Alex." I held out my hand to him. He took it, giving me a slight smile back.

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I am Viktor Krum. Are you having a good time?" He gazed around the room, his face souring a bit before turning back to me.

"Ohh, it's lovely. It's very rare that we get to meet with so many wizards from foreign countries. It's been very interesting." I was interrupted as a loud noise came from the other side of the room next to the musicians. The two of us turned to look just in time to see a very drunken man stand back up after apparently falling on top of one of the violin players. I realized it was the Bulgarian man who had sat across from us at dinner.

"Yes…. I am sure you are very glad to have met my father." Krum looked back to me with a fresh scowl. I was amazed at how bitter he was capable of looking to be so young.

"Ohh… that's your father? He was sitting close to me at dinner…"

"Yes I noticed. He vos arguing with the man next to you. Your father?" Krum looked over to my father, who was now standing with a group of ministry wizards who were looking utterly offended by the display.

"Yeah… I'm sorry about that. He can be hard to talk to sometimes…" I felt awkward having to talk about this. Krum just casually brought up the fact that our fathers were arguing like it was small talk about the weather.

"Don't be sorry. He is nothing compared to mine, I assure you." He stood there quietly for a moment, not seeming to be willing to say anything else.

"Er—are you excited about next week?" I feebly tried to start conversation.

"Yes." He didn't elaborate any more than that, and went back to standing quietly. Why did he want to come talk to me if he wasn't even going to talk?

"I vonted to ask you something." He looked back at me. His eyes drilled into mine. It made me a bit uncomfortable. I nodded at him to go on. "Your friend…" I followed his gaze and saw that he was now looking over at Cecelia. She was still trying desperately to gain the attention of O'Hare, who was now walking away from her as she continued to talk to him. "Do you think you could introduce me?"

"Umm…" So a guy comes over to talk to me, and then ends up only wanting me to set him up with Cecelia? Typical. "Yeah, I guess." I started leading the way over to Cecelia, who was now almost in a sprint to catch up with O'Hare, who was desperately trying to flee her grasp. I wondered silently if Krum knew what he was getting himself into.

"Hey, Cece." She spun around when she heard her nickname, and her mouth dropped when she realized who I was with.

"Er—Hi! I'm Cecelia." She stepped a bit closer, and stared up at Krum with that flirty look she always gave guys.

"Hello. I am…"

"Ohh, I know who you are!" She looked over at me, surprised—no doubt—that Krum was with me. "Who doesn't though, right?"

"I suppose… are you having a nice evening?" said Krum.

Krum was apparently going to have the exact same conversation with Cecelia as he had just had with me, so I excused myself and walked back away from them. I don't think either one of them noticed very much. That didn't bother me. I was glad to be able to play matchmaker for the evening, if nothing else.

"Mrs. Crouch! Mrs. Crouch!" I looked over to see Percy coming towards me. "Ahh, there you are. I've been looking for you. Are you about reading to go home? Your father wishes for me to escort you there." Percy puffed out his chest, as if he were the most important man in the room for haven been given the task.

"Sure. Let me just say bye first." I turned back around to go back towards Cecelia, but I changed my mind. It looked as if the two of them were in deep conversation about something, and I didn't want to break that up. Looking around, I didn't see Anneliese anywhere either. "Well… Never mind. I guess I'm ready."

"Your father says he'll be along shortly, but for you to not wait up for him. He has important matters to discuss with the minister." Percy looked as though he were going to explode from the amount of air he was pushing into his upper body.

"I'm sure he does." I said. I'm pretty sure the sarcasm was lost on Percy.

As we went to exit the room, I took one last look back. There were still couples dancing around in circles along the dancefloor, and more and more people looked as if they had visited the drink table. The polite façade that had been present all night was gone. Everyone looked as if they were in the party mood now. Which was expected, considering the World Cup was now on everyone's mind even more so now that the party was drawing to a close. The feeling of anticipation in the air was almost palpable. I couldn't help but have my own spirits lifted by it.

"Funny isn't it, that my father wants me to leave as soon as the party livens up?" I had meant it as a joke, but couldn't deny how true it was.

"Mr. Crouch has his reasons, I'm sure," replied Percy. I just nodded in agreement, not wanting to ruin the evening by overthinking my father or his reasons for doing things. We walked out into the cool, night air, and away from the party that was still alive inside of the manor. I grabbed onto Percy's arm, and let him apparate me away from the scene—the events from the night still dancing in my mind.

 **So much fluff! I hope you all enjoyed it. I would love it if you would leave me a review and let me know any tips you might have, or whether or not you're liking the story so far.**

 **The next chapter will be a little darker. And include more family drama concerning her brother before the World Cup. How do you think he will act, right before he deserts his family? How will it affect Alex? And what will be their father's reaction behind the scenes? I cannot wait for this story to get going.**

 **Chapter 3 should be out within the next week. But for now, please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Memories

A few moments later, I awkwardly landed on my doorstep. Apparating alongside someone else was never pleasant, but was made even worse after several drinks. I briefly leaned against Percy to steady myself, and then straightened my robes the best I could before starting to fumble with the lock on the door. _Wow_ , I thought to myself, _how many drinks did I have again?_

Seeing how much I was struggling, Percy reached out to lower my hand from the bolt, pulled out his wand, and proceeded to open the door for me.

"Alohomora," he whispered. The door swung open automatically. I took a moment to envy his ability to use magic outside of Hogwarts, and stumbled inside.

"Well, best be off!" Exclaimed Percy. "You can take it from here, I expect?"

I looked up at him wearily. "Sure thing. go'night," I slurred, and then swayed slightly until I caught myself on the staircase banister across from the doorway.

Percy started to move forward to catch me, but seemed torn. I could tell he had been instructed to bring me to the door, and not come in any further—father didn't like for non-family members to be roaming the halls unattended—but he seemed worried that I wouldn't make it up the stairs, let alone to bed. I decided to take pity and alleviate some of his stress.

I straightened myself up with the last bit of my energy, and in my most coherent voice said "Percy, I'm fine. Just going upstairs to crash. Our house-elf's here to watch out for me if anything happens."

He seemed satisfied by that answer. Little did he know that Winky was probably still tending to her own wounds from earlier in the evening, and probably hadn't even heard me arrive home. He nodded his goodbyes and left, moving swiftly down the pavement before apparating once more.

I closed the door behind him, then slouched down on the staircase as I attempted to regain some sobriety. In my effort to make the evening run as smoothly as possible, and to make awkward conversation easier, I had slightly overdone it on the open bar. I was surprised that the alcohol was hitting me harder now than when at the party, but I reminded myself that moving at the speed of light through time would probably affect that a bit. My head pounded as I leaned it back against the stone wall.

I opened my eyes and looked out at the moonlight falling on the floor from the window above the doorframe. The sway in my vision turned the moonlight on the floor into dancing water, ebbing slowly across the hardwood.

I had only been drunk one other time in my life, and never to this level of intoxication. During my first ever trip to Hogsmeade, Cecelia and Oliver managed to coerce Madame Rosmerta into giving us all shots of firewhiskey—and by coerce, I mean payoff using Oliver's sack of galleons he frequently had on his person. Since students are strictly forbidden from partaking in anything stronger than the occasional butterbeer, it caused quite the scandal. The week of detention wasn't quite worth the relentless puking that ensued from the drinks. Of course, even inebriated we should have known better than to not drink firewhiskey in broad daylight in a pub full of teachers. You live and you learn.

I was broken out of my nostalgia by the chime of the clock hanging overhead. I was too tired to turn to see what time it showed, so I attempted to count the chimes. "One…. Two….. Three…." My stomach began to churn. "Four..… Five... Six…." _I can't believe Krum came up to me, just to ask me to introduce him to Cecelia_. "seven….." _Wait, was that six or seven?_ "Six…. Seven…." _My arm still aches from where Malfoy grabbed me… What was up with that?_ "Eight…. Nine…." _I'm really going to get it from Pansy when we are back at school for that one…_ "Nine.… Nine…. Eleven?" _Oh bloody hell, I can't count right now._

I started to pull myself up from the third stair from the bottom where I had been sitting, and wobbled slightly before finding my balance. I wasn't entirely sure if it was from the alcohol or just from wearing heels all night. Even though I wasn't able to count every chime, I knew that it must still be getting late enough to expect father to be home any second, and the last thing I needed was for him to see me lying limp halfway up the stairs.

As I started to climb the stairs slowly, I continued to have flashbacks of my memories of the night. It was so odd that Ludo Bagman had news that was such a secret. I told myself that if he was in on it, then it must not be too important. The man was a blubbering idiot on a good day. Who would trust him with something top secret? Still, I couldn't help my curiosity...

Once I got to the landing halfway between the first two floors of my house, I noticed something dark and small lying in the corner of the first step. Upon further investigation, I noticed that it was the box my bracelet had come in. I bent down to pick it up, and turned it over in my hands, examining it. How did it get out here on the stairs? I looked around wildly, as if to see someone slinking away into the dark. I realized Winky must have moved it, and I lowered the box down into the pocket of my dress robes.

This brought me back to the most bizarre flashback of all—Winky being tortured because of something she had done while I was gone to Cecelia's earlier in the afternoon. What she had done, I wasn't sure, but it had something to do with my brother, who lived alone in a room at the top floor of our house. Winky's words ran through my mind. _I should have known not to leave young Mr. Crouch alone, sir…_

Out of all of the many rules that come with living in the Crouch household, there are two rules that reign as the most important.

First, nobody is allowed upstairs—under any circumstances, for any reason. This has always been a hard rule to follow, especially with friends like Cecelia who constantly ask why they've never seen my bedroom. Eventually, people stop asking, and I try to avoid inviting friends over just to avoid the questioning.

The second rule is even more important: the rule that my brother can never _, ever_ be left in the house unattended.

This rule always seemed peculiar to me. Barty's arrest was never something we discussed openly in the house, but I never understood why there had to be such strict security measures on my brother. I get that the entire wizarding world thinks he's dead and all, which makes it a little hard for him to stroll casually down the street. But I never understood why he at least couldn't be allowed to move freely through our own house, or even go sit by the river occasionally where no one would have a chance to see him.

In my earliest childhood memories, I remember having family dinners with Barty at the table. I also have memories of his laugh, and him pulling me on a toy broomstick by the river in our yard. The memories have blurred with age, but they are there. Half the time, I wonder if they are even real or just something I dreamed one day. Maybe I did, but still, I can't believe those memories are of a person who requires round-the-clock surveillance. Even now, during the brief times I visit him in his bedroom, his laugh does not have the same carefree sound as it did in my most distant memories. Even though he is always happy to see me, and hear my stories of Hogwarts and life outside of the house, he has never eluded to the fact that he wants to leave its shelter. Of course, that is probably also at least partly due to the imperius curse he is almost constantly put under to stop him from thinking such thoughts. Which again, I didn't see the need for.

After all, Barty knows that if anyone ever found out he was still alive, that not only would he be immediately sent back to Azkaban, and probably suffer from the dementor's kiss, but father and I would also be seen as accomplices to his concealment. Why would he risk something like that just to try to leave the house or be noticed by visitors? It's not like he needs protection against escaping with that sort of threat hanging over him.

Even now, my visits with Barty are almost always chaperoned by either Winky or father. There have been times throughout the years when I've been able to sneak away to talk to Barty when my father is away, but even this proves difficult when I am away at Hogwarts for the majority of the year, and even when I do get the house to myself without father, Winky is still here. Her guilt normally doesn't allow me to get away with a stroll upstairs alone without it going reported to father as soon as he gets home. Fear of the cruciatus curse can put a damper on any visit.

I finally reached the second floor, after dragging my feet and halfway falling back down the stairs the entire way up, and paused. I was still burning with curiosity about what happened before the party. I just had to know why Winky would leave the house. She is constantly being threatened with clothes to stay here in the house, no matter what, to make sure Barty isn't alone. I just couldn't wrap my head around the reasoning.

I knew there was no sense in asking Winky. Her loyalty to my father was too strong to waiver long enough to let anything slip. Really, I knew that there was only one way to really find out what had happened, but I immediately pushed the thought from my head. Even though I still didn't know exactly what time it was, it had to be close to midnight. There was no way of knowing how much longer father would be at the party.

But yet, with a dangerous a mixture of booze and curiosity, I quietly kicked off my heels and slowly started climbing to the third floor.

Once I reached the third floor landing, I crept along until I was in front of Winky's room. I peeked inside to see that she was still fast asleep from the happenings of the evening. Being tortured would drain the energy from anyone, but house-elves feel the effects of the cruciatus curse much stronger than humans. It can sometimes take her up to a week to fully recover from her punishments.

I crept slowly past her room, trying to not wake her prematurely. When I got to the end of the hallway, I couldn't help glancing into my father's bedroom to make sure that it too was still empty.

When I reached the door where my brother was kept, I paused. I wasn't sure why, but something about the moment felt ominous to me, like danger was near. I shook off the paranoia, and quickly made a silent vow to never drink again.

I slowly turned the knob, and pushed open the door.

 **Little bit of a cliff-hanger**

 **I know this chapter wasn't very long, but I am trying to get back into the swing of writing the story. I didn't mean for the time between chapters to be as long as it was, but once a few weeks goes by and then months, life happens, it can be very easy to fall out of the habit of writing.**

 **Now that I am back in the mindset, I am determined to finish it! I put way too much time in the outlining to abandon it now. Just took me a while to figure out how much I enjoyed doing it, and how excited I am to see where Alex's story goes!**

 **Plus, what little reviews I had from the first couple of chapters motivated me to pick it back up, so thank you all for that**

 **Next chapter will be out soon! And this time I mean it ;)**


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